 | Leaves of grass (1872) |  |
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The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;The simple, compact, well-join'd scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme;
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;
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The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing of others.
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Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;Others will watch the run of the flood-tide;
Others will see the shipping of Manhattan north and west, and the heights of Brooklyn to the south and east;
Others will see the islands large and small;
Fifty years hence, others will see them as they cross, the sun half an hour high;
A hundred years hence, or ever so many hundred years hence, others will see them,
Will enjoy the sunset, the pouring in of the flood-tide, the falling back to the sea of the ebb-tide.
| Leaves of grass (1872) | |